


Me and Mrs. Jones

by Olivia_Janae



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Billy Paul 'Me and Mrs. Jones', F/F, No there won't be anymore in the future, One Shot, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 15:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14596161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivia_Janae/pseuds/Olivia_Janae
Summary: Until tomorrow.She turned toward her car and, until tomorrow, went back to her life.





	Me and Mrs. Jones

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a one shot. There won't be more. Just an FYI. Heavy on the angst.
> 
> I got a bug randomly at three AM and rushed to my office to get this out. It's the first new thing I've written in almost a year... maybe more. So be gentle.  
> It's based on the song below. Have a listen before or after, please.  
> Hope you guys enjoy it.

[Me and Mrs. Jones by Billy Paul](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYOQDnWFXYI)

* * *

 

Her fingers shook a little as she took the large white bowl-of-a-cup of coffee the young server was handing her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice crisp as the coffee spilled a little into the saucer below, ruining whatever decorative pattern had been on top.

“That’s okay.” The woman winked. If Regina had been paying attention she might have noticed that the wink was flirty, maybe even a little hopeful but at the moment Regina’s stomach was tied into a knot. So, she just took the drink and set it down in front of her, dismissing the woman without a second thought.

Her eyes, tight around the edges, darted to the door and reflexively her hands smoothed the charcoal grey pencil skirt and her tucked in burgundy silk blouse.

Was she coming?

This would make for the third week since ... her mind fluttered through the images of that other morning, not able to land on any of them and instead taking them in all at once. The walk through the park, the accidental brushing of hands, the butterflies in her stomach like she was a damned school girl.

Her scared and yet excited energy bubbled to the top and she had to swallow thickly, else explode.

Across the boho chic and very out of the way coffee shop, the little annoying bell over the door gave an obnoxious ring and Regina’s eyes snapped up, her drink halfway to her lipsticked lips.

A young man with long black hair in board shorts and an ironic tee shirt reading ‘Frankie says relax’ walked in instead of who she was waiting for.

Her teeth ground and her throat automatically cleared itself.

 _Was_ she coming?

Was this the day she would put an end to this, as they both should?

 _Emma_.

Was Emma coming?

Emma, whom she had met on the junior soccer field. Emma, whom, despite her usual refusal to mingle with the other mom’s, had been able to convince her to join them for coffee at the local Starbucks. Emma, who had never become a friend. They had skipped that step in the process and instead, sitting on a park bench, their hands had accidentally brushed. Instead of pulling away, Emma’s head had turned away, as if in shame, and allowed her finger – just one – to trace along Regina’s. Emma, who it took another two days of this before she was able to turn and smile at her. Emma, whom –

Regina’s breath caught in her throat, her palms instantly growing sweaty.

Her hands, what did she normally do with her hands? They suddenly felt like dead weight at the ends of her arms. Her tongue felt too large, her body too still. She was too aware of herself, aware of what the flash of blonde hair outside of the shop had just done to her.

She cupped the mug and forced herself to look down so it wasn’t obvious what she had been watching the door and waiting.

She had come.

For another day, Emma had come.

The door gave that ring that Regina hated so much but suddenly it didn’t feel obnoxious at all. In fact, the pitch was nice. The ring came again, meaning the door had closed behind someone and Regina’s will failed her. She looked up.

Her heart warmly ached.

She was beautiful.

Emma was turning from the door, her eyes downcast but, despite that, Regina could see that the forest green sweater she wore made them shine. She had the sleeves pulled down and bunched in each hand, stretching the fabric tight as though she too was nervous.

It made a small smile whisper in the corners of Regina’s mouth.

Emma looked up.

Was Regina’s look overeager? She thought it might have been but it was hard to care when Emma was giving her that shy little smile.

Nothing was more addicting than a shy smile from a person who wasn’t shy.

Regina sat up a little straighter, her own smile growing.

Emma’s head ducked and awkwardly made a gesture toward the counter. She seemed to catch herself and her eyes rolled as she laughed at herself, shaking her head a little as she started to the counter.

Regina’s smile grew all the more, her heart giving a few happy patters.

She tried not to watch Emma order, and this at least she was successful in. Still, she wasn’t sure she took a deep breath until she heard Emma’s light tread approach behind her.

Emma paused as she reached the table and Regina watched, hopeful and trying to dash those hopes all at once. But after only a second, Emma elected not to sit in the chair across from Regina but instead the one just beside her.

Regina sighed out a few nerves.

“Hi,” she said a little breathlessly.

Emma’s smile was wide. “Hi.”

Regina just watched Emma watching her for a moment with nothing specific to say before, together, they both laughed at the slight awkwardness; both were too nervous, too excited.

Regina shook her head, trying to pull some semblance of _herself_ together. She wasn’t a nervous love sick little school girl. She _wasn’t._

“How are you?” She asked.

“Good. I’m... I’m good.” Emma grinned. “Sorry, I’m late. One of those mornings.”

Regina nodded. She understood all too well the demands of a child, a husband, and trying to get both of them out the door in time for work and school.

“Couldn’t get Jenny to brush her teeth again, huh?”

This finally broke the excited ice and Emma’s shoulders relaxed as she laughed. Regina relaxed with her.

“Killian got her some bubble gum flavored toothpaste at the store last night so, yeah, she was all about it this morning.”

Regina chuckled, ignoring the angry prickles in her skin and shoving down her dislike of hearing his name. “Toothpaste that’s flavored like candy? That defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

“Hey,” Emma shrugged, “if it gets her teeth clean then I’m happy. We can’t all have perfect little teeth brushers like Henry.”

Regina smirked. “Is that envy I hear in your voice?” She took a sip of her coffee. It was only then that she realized the server had brought her the wrong thing. This was sugary and had far too much milk. She had drunk half of it without even noticing while waiting for Emma. She internally rolled her eyes at herself.

“Yeeees!” Emma groaned, playfully throwing herself back into her chair, her head hanging over the side. “God! I would love it if Jenny decided she actually _liked_ brushing her teeth and taking a bath.”

Regina put her cup down in distaste. “Yes, well, that took practice and dedication on my part.”

Emma scoffed. “Okay, Regina.”

Regina’s eyes, which had been unmoving on Emma’s face, drinking it in, finally dropped as she gave a laugh. Still, it was hard to force them to be anywhere other than where they wanted to be. A moment later, they sprang back up, taking in the way her eyes were sparkling, the way her cheeks bunched and created perfect little dimples as she smiled, the way that her smile widened when she saw Regina watching her.

“A child is only as dedicated as their parent,” Regina said, but only to tease.

“Yeah well.” Emma sat back up. “Killian’s quite proud of himself.”

Regina’s teeth ground but she laughed anyway to cover the reaction.

It had been a young marriage, Emma had said. It had been a marriage that had only happened because Emma had found herself unceremoniously pregnant at the tender age of nineteen. ‘I was young. He was my high school sweetheart. He had good insurance,’ she had said. Her ever bright eyes had dulled as she had told her about it, her fingers had fidgeted in Regina’s. She had looked so lost.

“Anyway,” Emma said with a shake of her head as the conversation faded.

Emma said something more but Regina hadn’t heard. Instead, every inch of her was focused under the table, on the light feeling of Emma’s fingers tentatively touching the top of her thigh. They fluttered there under the table like an anxious butterfly and then very lightly headed just over her knee. Regina watched Emma’s face, took in the hopeful and determined smile there.

“Regina?”

“Hmm?” Regina’s eyes focused again.

“How are you?” Emma repeated.

“Oh...” Regina’s hand left her coffee cup to gently land over Emma’s, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m doing well. Henry and... and Robin are well too.”

Had she imagined the slight stiffening in Emma’s hand?

“Yeah?” Emma asked, her grin going crooked as Regina’s fingers flexed, gently tracing the grooves between Emma’s until Emma spread them and Regina could interlink their hands.

“Mmm.” Regina hummed. Her heart was hammering, jumping and tripping in a happy dance. She loved the feeling of Emma’s fingers. She loved their long length, and how soft they were compared to Robin’s short, rough, and blunt ones.

She could imagine them on her, how soft they would be on her. She had never imagined a woman’s touch before but she had already come to terms with this new phenomenon and had accepted their place in her late night imaginings, just like her lips which she assumed would be warm and soft, smelling of peppermint instead of cheap beer or the occasional cigar.

She wanted to know for sure. She wanted to know what they would taste like, how they would feel, if they would really be so different.

She wanted to know.

“How did Henry do on that spelling test?” Emma asked, drawing her back from her thoughts.

“Perfect score.” Regina smiled, trying not to study those thin but inviting lips. “He loved that little song you taught me. It really helped.”

Emma grinned, her pleasure at helping obvious.

“Did Jenny finish her science fair project yet?”

“Last night.” Emma nodded, her hand shifting to rest a little higher on Regina’s thigh and Regina had to swallow her heart again.

They were past the point of looking around the café to be sure no one was watching. She couldn’t imagine what they looked like, holding hands in secret like this but whether from complacency or an outright need to feel Emma’s touch, Regina didn’t care.

“It’s good to see you, Regina.” Emma offered, her look warm.

Again Regina just gave a, “Mmm,” and nodded a little.

It was wonderful to see her too. It had only been twenty four hours and yet...

Emma’s thumb gave an appreciative brush of the fingers locked together with hers and Regina felt her cheeks pink.

“Medium cappuccino?”

Like an electric spark, their hands snapped back to their own laps as they both looked guiltily up at the server.

“Err yeah, that’s me.” Emma held up a quick two fingers and reached for the cup, thanking her.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No.” Regina shook her head and with a regal stiffness, waved her away.

The woman went.

Emma watched her go, slack jawed.

“What is it?”

Emma gave a small little titter.

“What?”

“I think we might need to find a new coffee shop.”

“What? Why?” Regina frowned. This shop was perfect. Unless you knew where it was – or happened upon it during a walk like they had – you would never find it. It was close to their children’s school, and yet far from either of their husband's places of work. No one knew them here.

Emma’s chin nodded to the retreating server. “I think someone has a thing for you.”

“What?” Regina gave a snort. “She does not.”

“Regina!” Emma cried in a whisper. “ _Can I get you anything else?”_ She mimicked, her eyelashes fluttering, her face simpering.

“Oh, please, Emma. She did not do that.”

Emma laughed and without hesitation reached under the table and took her hand again.

It felt wonderful.

“I guess I can’t blame her.” Emma shrugged. “Not with the way you look today.”

Regina’s mouth opened, caught off guard. “I – I-” she stammered, but found she had nothing to say.

Emma’s eyes twinkled, her dimple becoming a deep ravine. She liked to throw Regina off balance this way.

“Oh Emma, stop.” Regina scoffed but Emma’s smile just grew.

“What? It’s true.”

Regina’s eyes rolled and she took a moment to pat her hair in order to hide her blush.

“I like that.”

Regina’s breath suddenly became glue-like in her lungs. “What?” Was she this breathless to Emma’s ears too?

She watched Emma’s tongue gently wet her own bottom lip, drawn to its progress.

“Making you blush like that.”

The words were enough to send a fresh wave of blood to her cheeks, deepening her flush and forcing her eyes down to the table for a small break from Emma’s constant gaze.

“Like _that_.” Emma chuckled and Regina had to laugh, their fingers squeezing the others in their hidden spot. She wanted to bring them to her lips. Instead she held them tighter.

They chuckled together, their drinks cooling and forgotten.

They weren’t why they were here.

Regina grew serious as the laughter faded. “You look beautiful, Emma.”

This time it was Emma’s time to flush.

Her long lashes blinked a few times and then her head ducked to her chin, obviously pleased.

It made Regina long to reach out, to touch her in some more solid way. It made her want to kiss her, to touch her.

But that wasn’t possible.

They had to be careful.

So she stayed in her seat and instead let her hand wander, gently pushing its way into her sleeve to stroke the soft skin of her wrist, of her forearm. She was stretching the material out, but Emma didn’t seem to mind. In fact, was it just her or had Emma’s seat suddenly shifted a little closer.

“So.” After a static second Emma blinked a few times quickly. “Where were we yesterday?” Regina asked.

Emma hummed a little, obviously distracted by Regina’s touch. “Uh – Greece, I think.”

“Right.” Regina thought for a moment. “What about Florence today?”

Emma beamed.

“A little casa nestled in the heart of a vineyard.”

 Emma sighed, resting her head on her elbow on the table and leaning her head against it. “You can make pasta from scratch.”

“Only if you promise to make the sauce.”

Emma’s smile was dreamy. “I can do that.”

It was a game they played every day. They made plans. They traveled. They kissed. They lived. They did it all without leaving the coffee shop, in their respected seats with only their fingers touching.

Regina leaned in a little, trying to be just a little closer. They never had long. She had to make the most of it.

“We could wake up in the morning with the warm Italian breeze blowing on our bare backs,” Emma continued.

Regina sighed, envisioning it.

“And then I would roll over and...”

Regina’s temperature spiked, her eyes locked with Emma’s, desperate for her to finish the sentence so her mental image could go on. “And?”

“And then we wouldn’t get up for the rest of the day,” Emma said it simply but Regina could see her ears turn the softest shade of pink.

Regina’s fingers stopped tracing to simply hold her hand for a moment, letting her know how welcomed a morning like that would be.

“We could be free. We could travel the countryside, teach Henry and Jenny Italian. We could make love my candlelight... have another baby... go shopping in one of those cute little Italian markets you see in moves. We could have this whole ‘Under the Tuscan Sun’ thing.”

Regina grinned. “Let’s do it,” she sighed, her voice a little raspy. She wanted it.

“Okay.” Emma nodded. “I’ll go home and pack. I can take out half of our savings, pick up Jenny and we can meet you at the airport in a few hours.”

Regina nodded, her heart heavy. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Okay,” Emma whispered. “I’ll go now.”

“Good,” Regina muttered back, watching Emma’s face.

Neither moved.

They both knew that these plans they made every day weren’t real. They would never go to Italy, or to Greece, or even New York.

They had children. They had husbands, and car payments, and little league, and... lives. They had lives that they couldn’t walk away from.

“Regina, I...” Emma’s green eyes were sad, the air suddenly too heavy to breathe.

“I know.” So this week it was Emma’s turn to hold her hand and tell her just how much she wanted something neither of them could have.

She understood.

The week before those had been her words.

Emma searched her face before: “I... I have to go. It’s Tuesday.”

“You have the dentist.” Regina breathed out, remembering.

Emma’s smile flickered and her hand tightened on Regina’s leg. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.”

Regina’s heart had turned to ice in her chest, painfully freezing her from the inside out.

She glanced at their forgotten coffees and considered insisting that she wait until they finished their drinks but suddenly the sugar in hers felt heavy in her stomach. She didn’t want it.

“Walk with me?”

Regina smiled, happy as she could be for another five minutes. “Yes. Please.”

They rose together, their hands breaking apart with a painful shatter.

Emma opened the door for her and the bell above it gave a horrible little clatter that made Regina wince.

She hated that bell. Tomorrow she would love it as it rang for whichever of them arrived second. But today, she hated that horrible, grating, clanging.

She passively considered ripping it out of the wall, making it pay for what it meant.

It meant it was time for this to end.

 

They didn’t walk far. They never did. They just circled the block, their voices quiet, their eyes every now and then meeting. They walked just a little too close, choosing to turn into the other instead of away if someone passed to close to them, giving a brief and wonderful moment where their bodies could grow close or even touch. Every now and then Emma’s hand would gently hover over the small of Regina’s back, guiding her over a pebble, a crack in the sidewalk, anything to provide the small excuse. And Regina could feel that hand, even though it never touched her. She could feel it settle on the small of her back. She could feel it glide up over her skin, into her hair, tracing down her cheek, across her collarbone.

She could feel it and yet, she had to guess what Emma’s touch would feel like, what it would smell like to bury her face in her neck, how her hair would tickle and it grazed her skin.

 

The coffee shop came back into view as quickly as it did every day and as soon as they saw it their footsteps stopped, staying well away.

Regina looked at her car mournfully. Today had been a short visit. Perhaps tomorrow it would be longer. Either way ...

It was time to go.

Emma stood beside her, just a little too close for decency, her hand hovering over the small of Regina’s back as though she was about to pull her in for a hug.

Regina knew she wouldn’t.

Instead, she turned herself just a little, leaning in closer, feeling Emma who was so far from her.

She longed for just a moment of freedom, just a moment to be given the permission they both needed.

Emma shifted, bringing herself just a little closer and Regina’s eyes closed, her head tilted to the side, toward her.

She could almost feel the hug.

Emma sighed and it was not a happy sound. In it she heard the weight of them, of their lives, of their departure until the next day, of Emma’s want.

Gently, fingers soft and warm brushed down Regina’s cheek.

Regina’s eyes flew open, shocked, but Emma’s hand was already retreating.

She wanted it back.

“Tomorrow?” Emma asked in a hoarse voice.

Regina blinked. “Yes. Tomorrow.”

“Same time?”

Regina looked into her eyes, longing so deeply. “Yes. Same time.”

Emma nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hesitated and without another glance, Emma turned and started toward her car.

Regina cleared her throat, trying to clear the fog that had come from that small touch. She watched as Emma opened her car and did not look back.

She didn’t blame her. Regina didn’t look back either when she was the one to pull away first.

It only made it harder.

Regina swallowed.

Until tomorrow.

She reached into her purse for her keys and was met with a vibrating phone.

Robin, the screen read.

Until tomorrow.

She turned toward her car and, until tomorrow, went back to her life.

 

 


End file.
